


Ramble On

by tbower86



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 17:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbower86/pseuds/tbower86
Summary: Dean's thoughts after being cured by Sam and Cas.





	Ramble On

_**“Personally, I like the disease!”** _

Dean Winchester lay sprawled on top of his bed, back at the bunker where he never thought he'd be again. He was listening to Led Zeppelin through his headphones to try to drown out the emotions swirling through him, but it wasn't working like it normally did.

"Ramble On" usually brought him peace as he thought of driving on blacktop in Baby. Sure, he was usually hunting something out of a nightmare, but it's what he was made to do. Save people. Be Dad's good little soldier. Not think of anything but taking care of Sammy and ganking the next horrible monster while pounding back beers, eating diner food, and bedding beautiful women.

Tonight, it wasn't working. Instead of reminding him of simpler times, Robert Plant's vocals faded into the background as flashes of the past few months crowded his brain.

Dean hated chick flick moments. And that included with himself. His urge was to bury everything under sarcasm and an ocean of alcohol, but that reminded him too much of his demon counterpart to feel like a good solution.

So instead, he let the feelings wash over him in a way he never had before. Because if he didn't feel, he might as well have black eyes again. Being a demon was not what Dean had expected. Having the Mark of Cain meant constantly dealing with urges, mostly violent and destructive.

Every day with the Mark had been like living on the edge of a blade. One wrong move and he could explode in a whirlwind of pain and rage. He had worked to stuff powerful feelings down with booze and hunting and anything else he could concentrate on besides the animal he’d felt inside.

When Metatron had slid the angel blade into him, Dean had experienced a moment of pure bliss. Sure, there was pain, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. Sure, Sam would miss him, but he had moved on before. Plus, Cas would keep him safe. He had promised Dean that if anything ever happened, he would watch over Sammy, make sure he got a good life.

So, yes, as Dean had slipped away and his body had gone numb, he'd finally felt at peace, all the anger and pain and fear of, and from, the Mark disappearing. Dean had thought he'd been done. For good this time, he'd hoped. Abandon had been dealt with, Crowley had seemed emaciated - an easy target for Sam, and Cas could handle the angel situation - that wasn't for Dean to mess with anyway.

As his brother's face had faded from view, Dean had felt happiness and relief.

Waking up to Crowley standing over him in the bunker had been like having a bucket of cold water poured over him. At first, it was a shock to be back in his body. But that's all it was really. He hadn't had any kind of deeper thoughts. He had written the note for Sam and left with Crowley because he hadn't felt any sort of attachment to Sam or the bunker anymore.

People think demons are evil because they are full of hate. Dean had known hate with the Mark. As a demon, he had been numb. The world, the people…nothing had affected him. He would purposely do things to piss people off, but he didn't really care about what they thought or felt or anything at all, really.

He had been pleasantly tuned out. He had finally been able to do what he wanted with no conscience and no desire to please anyone but himself. He hadn't cared about whether he'd been a good son, a good soldier, a good brother, a good person.

The weight he had carried with him for decades was gone. So he'd drank and sang and fought and fucked. And when Crowley had decided to try to rope him back into the game, he'd bolted. He'd been done being someone's attack dog, someone's bitch.

Then, Sammy had found him and gotten the upper hand. Dean had tried to explain to his brother that he should just let him go - he should've gotten that from the note! - that he didn't want cured, that he liked being a demon.

But of course, his brother hadn't listened. Sam couldn't let him go - it wasn't the Winchester way.

When he'd broken free of the ropes, he should have left the bunker and his brother behind. But he’d known Sam would just come for him again. So he'd decided to fight. It hadn't mattered to him who won. Either way, Dean would have been free.

If Sammy killed him - and that's the only way it would have ended that time - he would have finally been at peace again, not numb, but truly finished. If he had been the victor, he could have gone back to karaoke and sex for the rest of eternity.

But he hadn't left. And Sam had been so close to ending Dean's empty existence when he'd felt two strong arms wrap around him from behind and a familiar voice growl in his ear.

Dean had felt every human emotion come flooding back as Cas’ grace flowed through every part of him. It felt like holy fire cleansing his mind, body, and soul. Burning out the apathy and replacing it with love and happiness, yes, but also the pain and rage and fear.

Dean Winchester was back. All the broken pieces of him. But so was the Mark. And all the trouble that came with it.

So, yeah, he hadn't been lying when he'd told Sam he liked the disease. Being a demon had been easy. He'd been pleasantly numb, with no responsibilities or self-loathing.

Now, he felt everything he had before and everything he'd done since becoming a demon. Full force. The weight of his mistakes, his worthlessness, and his anger was crushing him.

Ripping off his headphones and tossing them aside, Dean curled up on his side, closed his eyes, and let tears silently fall.


End file.
